


Living Poets

by kelsi_vanorder



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Dead Poets Society - Freeform, F/M, M/M, Neil Perry (Dead Poets Society) Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:00:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24305539
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelsi_vanorder/pseuds/kelsi_vanorder
Summary: Since Headmaster Nolan retired, Mr. Keating was able to get a job back at Welton Academy. He applied to be the new headmaster, and surprisingly won the position! With Keating as the headmaster, he was able to admit Charlie Dalton back in the academy. (note: this is an AU where Neil is alive) Along with returning expelled students, Keating begins admitting girls into Welton. Follow the perspective of Oakley Isle as she lives as the only girl in grade twelve!
Relationships: Charlie Dalton/Knox Overstreet, Knox Overstreet/Original Character(s), Steven Meeks/Gerard Pitts, Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	1. Author's Note

Greetings, and welcome to _Living Poets_! I'm Kelsi, and I'll be your author for the next thirty or so chapters! Buckle up, buttercup, because this is a wild ride.

I recently watched the film _Dead Poets Society_ , and it completely changed my life. I fell in love with the character development and began to have dreams of writing an elaborate story in a similar setting, but Neil lives! I loved Neil's character too much to let him die. Plus, it completely wrecked Todd and Charlie, so I kept him alive for this one.

Introducing a female character into the mix of horny teenage boys is not an original idea, though I'm planning to have unique development and thickening plots! 

Thanks for reading! Please comment if you see things you like. 


	2. Author's Note

"Remember to bring them home. All of them!"

"Mother, I-" "All. Of. Them." "Yes, ma'am." Some people don't worry about tea sets, but some people are not my mother. She knows I'm going to a prep school, so she thinks I need a tea set.

"Boarding school kids are fancy! You need a fancy teapot and cup set to go with your snazzy new bedroom." This woman exhausts me. "Speaking of the bedroom, you're not going to be sharing it with a boy, are you? I know Welton used to be an all-male academy, so-"

"Mother, the new headmaster is letting girls apply. That means the school has everything figured out. You and Father are more than welcome to attend the ceremony today." Mother sighed, glancing toward the den where Father frustratingly sat. Father was none too happy to learn that I would present myself as Welton Academy's token female student. Although this is my last year of prep school, Headmaster Keating is advertising my name as a model student for Welton.

"How are you a model student?" Father exclaimed. "We just moved here! Is it even possible to have a reputation in a new place?" After these outbursts, he'd sit in the den with a lowball and resentfully type. Father is one of the few owners of a Sphinx typewriter, and took great pride in it. He insists that he won it in an auction, but Mother tells me his father passed it down to him. Father isn't the type to show weakness, so I had no choice but to believe her. He is as emotionally complex as a standard pebble.

"I don't know, Father," I said, making my way toward the front door. "I don't want to be late." Mother chuckled from the kitchen

"You've never been late a day in your life, Janie," she came to kiss my forehead, a tradition in the Isle household. "You were even early to your birth!"

"Yes, ma'am," I sighed, leaning against the door frame. "Well, you know me. Gotta be early-"

"Otherwise you're late!" Father chimed in, surprisingly upbeat. He waved from the den. "Have a wonderful time. Remember to write to us! I love you, dear." I waved with the suitcase in my hand and bag on my shoulder. I let the door slam behind me.

I never learned to drive, because Mother says it's not lady-like. Father instructed me to walk to Welton; not only would that take hours, but I have to hold a suitcase as well. So, I took my bike from the side of the garage and picked the kickstand up. Haphazardly placing my suitcase in the front basket, I went on my way. Father drove me from our new home to Welton Academy at least thirty times prior to this morning, so I've practically memorized the backroads. As the slight autumn wind whips through my hair, a large building obscures my vision.

" _Well_ ," I thought as I chained and locked my bike in the rack. My knees wobbled and my hands trembled as I pulled my suitcase from its basket. Using my hand to shield my eyes from the sun, I started on the concrete path. " _There's no going back now_."


End file.
